When Imagination Gets Real

Yesterday, the Ladies and I went down to see the Wild Man and his very sweet little sister for a playdate.

When the Wild Man and the Lady get together, things usually get a bit messy. In fact, the Wild Man likes to say that when the Lady comes over they are going to "make a mess." At least the kid is honest. Most visits end with piles of books pulled off of shelves, some sort of snack food either spilt on the floor or squashed into a sneaker and a cabinet or two emptied out. Yesterday was no different, but it also ended with what I like to call an "emotional mess" of two very tired two-year-olds who took their imaginative day-at-the-beach scenario too far.

When I was out picking up some lunch, the Lady found a pair of sunglasses. This apparently started off a conversation about going to the beach. The kids started discussing what they would need at the beach, pail, shovel, sunglasses, towels, etc. . . and then this quickly led into finding objects that would appropriate these things--namely in the lazy susan cabinet in my sister's kitchen.

When I returned from picking up lunch, the Lady was in her sunglasses, the Wild Man was carrying around an actual beach pail and they had emptied the entire contents of the cabinet onto the kitchen floor. This included a blender, a giant pepper mill, two bottles of vegetable oil and one bottle of olive oil, assorted pans and bowls and a tin of Christmas cookie cutters.

We continued the conversation about the beach. We talked about putting our feet in the water and whether or not it would be cold. We talked about bringing a pool for the babies this summer and bringing snacks and drinks. All things that triggered their imaginations. The Wild Man threw some "sand" or paper clips--whatever--into his pail. The Lady opened up the bottle of olive oil and tried to pour it in the blender in order to mimic sandcastle making. (Luckily, I caught her in the act.) But things soon started to take an ugly turn.

The Lady insisted on going outside to get the yellow beach shovel on the back deck that the Wild Man had used in snow making. I tried to kill this request but was met by some very high decibel shouting. I relented. She got the yellow shovel and things seemed fine for a bit.

The Wild Man, in an attempt to recreate the conditions at the beach, took off his shirt in order to facilitate the imaginary sunscreen application. He then took off his diaper. We all pretended to put on our own sunscreen, we talked again about going to the beach and picking up shells. In fact, we talked about it so much, that both of these kids became convinced that we were actually going to the beach. This led to what I can only describe as a "crazy cacophony of dueling decibels."

These kids can cry.

The Lady wanted to put her shoes on and get in the car with the Wild Man to go to the beach. I told her we weren't going to the beach. This did not go over well. There was a lot of repetition of I. Want. To. Go. To. The. BEACH!! Like, I didn't hear her the first time.

The Wild Man was naked and inconsolable. He insisted on going to the beach house and he too refused to take no for an answer. He could not be calmed down by a phone call from his mother and I heard later that after he was rediapered he took a pretty significant nap!

I wonder how things will go this summer when we do make it to the actual beach? I can only imagine the issues having to do with going in the water, not wanting to go in the water, it being too hot and sunny out, having snacks fall into the sand, over-excitement about sunscreen application, refusal to put on sunscreen, throwing sand, eating sand, peeing on sand and the one thing I hate about the beach. . . wanting to feed the seagulls. Can't wait.

I guess I will take the occasional imaginary day at the beach. . .